


Moirail

by Over_Blackout



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Over_Blackout/pseuds/Over_Blackout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Karkat Vantas and your moirail is crying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moirail

Your name is Karkat Vantas and your moirail is crying. 

You were worried because you had not heard from him in a day or so (and you _always_ hear from him) so you go and check, thinking that he had probably eaten to many sopor pies or knocked himself out using his one-wheel-device or even gotten stuck in his Recuperacoon (again). He does not answer the door, but you have a key. Gamzee gave it to you half a sweep ago after you had kicked the door down trying to see if he was okay. He had been smiling that fucking dopey clown-faced affectionate smile and just plonked the key in your palm. You remember blushing and yelling and being papped right between the horns before mumbling thank you and hugging the ditzy moron. His hive is deadly silent when you trapes in and you stopl. Something is wrong. You make your way slowly through the hive blocks, alert, ready to grab your sickles and fight. You reach his respiteblock last and you look around, almost missing his still form. You freeze.

He is on the floor when you walk in, curled up under a viewing portal, and he looks so small, the fractured line of his shoulders curving as thin arms circle his knees. You know he is crying. He only ever sits like that when his is crying. You push your limbs into action and are over by him in seconds, hands everywhere checking for injuries, blood, bruises, for a steady pulse and a beating in his chest. You find no wounds and you have that pulse. You take his face in your hands and lift Gamzee's head, cradling it in your palms and feeling cool tears slide down your fingers. It hurts something in you, seeing your moirail cry, like having a hand wrapped round your blood pusher and it slowly squeezing till it cracks and shatters. He always cries silently. Tears slip out the corner of his eyes even when he tries to smile at you.

'Hey motherfucker.' Gamzee's voice is rough, muted and it is killing you 'What brings you to my hive so late in the motherfucking day?' The smile breaks and reforms, tears still slipping through your fingers.

You don't trust you voice, you lean forward and rest you thinkpan against his, gathering him close, wrapping you arms around him, hands stroking down his back, through his wild mane of hair. His arms are limp against you for seconds, then they are clutched in your shirt, and his face is buried in your neck. He is shaking and cool drops are sliding down your skin, soaking in your shirt as he burrows closer, impossibly closer until it seem like he is trying to slip into your skin. You kiss his forehead and stroke his back as you shoosh him. 

It is a long time until he stops crying, and your knees hurt and your back is cramped and you don't care because Gamzee has finally, _finally_ stopped shaking. You relax your grip when he shifts under you, pulling back to wipe at swollen eyes. His face is a mess, paint smudged and ruined from his tears and your shirt. But you smile at him.

'I'm sorry, bestfriend' he says and you stamp down on the anger that flairs. He has nothing to be sorry for. Instead you raise one of his hands and kiss him palm and you look him carefully in the eye.

'What the fuck happened?' You ask, keeping your voice soft and low, keeping hold of his hand, Gamzee looks so small now, so defenceless and you are ready to kill whoever, _whatever_ did this to him.

Gamzees mouth works a few times before he can say, his words stuttered and broken.

'I t-thought I saw goat-dad, palebro' Your stomach sinks, and you pull him close again, rocking him gently as he falters 'I swear, I swear it was him, Kk, it motherfucking was, he was far out so – I yelled an' hollered an' waved, but he must not 'ta heard me cuz he went under, Kk, an' I waited, I waited for long motherfucking time but he, uh, he didn't come back up.' Gamzee goes quiet and fiddles with your fingers and he bites his lips while you try to calm the seething rage you feel toward your moirail's fucking bulge-sucking piss-drinking dipshitting douche of a lusus.

'It's okay, Gam,' you whisper as your fingers card through his hair 'It's okay, I'm here you dumb clown. I am always gonna be here, motherfucker' and you will, you swear you will you would rather die, you would rather suffer a thousand deaths than see Gamzee like this. And you whisper it over and over until Gamzee turns and smiles, it is a exhausted, tiny, fragile, smile but it is a smile and you grin back, patting him on the chest. Then you demand that he tell you where some fucking FRESH face cloths are so you can wipe that fucking paint off his god ugly mug and off your neck and tell him to get in somefucking pjs while you do it. 

When you come back brandishing a hot towelette, gamzee is sitting on the edge of his recuperacoon, waiting, in his ridiculous fucking clown pjs, all sad lines and thin angles and he smiles at you, something happy and warm lighting his face when you walk in and you are hit by a wave of pity so devastatingly pale that you blood pusher stops for a second and you almost trip over your feet making you way over to him. 

He sits still and relaxed when you wipe the paint from his face, and his fingertips, that soft smile never leaving his face and you strip your shirt and shorts and order him to get in the fucking 'coopcoon and climb in after him. You pull him into your chest when you settle, his head resting on your shoulder as you hold him in a loose grip, fingers threaded together as kiss his cheek and tell him to get some fucking sleep. You are tired now, all the anger and worry draining from your body as you rest in the warm slime, your moirail safe and guarded in your arms. The buzz of the filtration system is gentle and it lulls you closer to oblivion when you hear Gamzee whisper

'You are a motherfucking miracle, best friend. You are a motherfucking miracle' His voice is awed, flushed with pity and happiness and you squeeze him.

'Yeah, yeah you moron-clown,' You say 'I am so stupidly pale for you, I am periodically sick while thinking about it' You tell him to sleep again and close your eyes. He is laughing when he tells you;

'Me too, palebro, me too.'

**Author's Note:**

> ;_; *whispers* hello i am sorry thank you for reading ;-; i have so many gamkar feels don't even look at me i am so sorry


End file.
